


They All Die In The End

by Engineerd, Stardust_Steel



Series: Watching the Sun and Moon [3]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Slow Burn, are you brave enough to find out if the title is true?, kakavegeweek2021, prompt: Old Men, prompt: Working Out, teamfic, tumblr: kakavegeweek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-23 20:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30060957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engineerd/pseuds/Engineerd, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stardust_Steel/pseuds/Stardust_Steel
Summary: Namekians have naturally long lifespans. The Androids knew they were headed for a long life as well.Neither Goku or Vegeta had any idea how long Saiyans were supposed to live, but well, they haven't died yet?ORGoku and Vegeta live an extremely long time, and make friends with the androids and Piccolo.Prompt: Old Men & Working Out
Relationships: Son Goku/Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Series: Watching the Sun and Moon [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2152998
Comments: 26
Kudos: 33
Collections: Kakavege week #10





	They All Die In The End

**Author's Note:**

> This starts from Android 17's POV, but begins to circle around and focus on Goku and Vegeta strongly in the next three chapters. We wanted to maintain a strong element of finding family, and common ground between unlikely personalities. Humor, tragedy, angst and fluff coming. We really had fun with this, hope you will too :3

**(Re)start**

It was a warm day on Monster Ranger Island. Android 17 was in the middle of studying a vaguely familiar trail track when a POP! sounded somewhere behind him. 17 turned his head slightly.

“Say, 17,” Goku said, like he didn’t just instantly appear out of nowhere. “Want to train with me and Vegeta sometimes?”

17 was far too used to the Dragon Team’s oddities at this point to be surprised. He looked blankly at him. “Why do you think I would be? I’ve no desire to keep up with two Super Saiyan Blues.” Or whatever creative new name they’d come up with for their next transformation.

“Aw, don’t be like that! You would give us a real challenge! 18, too.”

“Sure,” 17 said, most definitely sure he wouldn’t.

“No, I’m serious!” Goku scratched the back of his head. “You and 18 have limitless energy and endurance, as androids. You could go on fighting forever, if you wanted to!” 

“I do not want to,” 17 replied bluntly.

“No, listen,” Goku said with earnest eyes, and okay,  **now** 17 understood why Goku could get Vegeta to do just about anything he wanted, even if it was always followed by a lot of snarling. “Vegeta and I tend to just power up and go at it until something breaks-” 17 knew he wasn’t talking about their bodies or bones - “but if we trained with you, we would have to be more crafty and adapt our style for endurance.”

“That’s fair logic,” 17 agreed, “but what do I get out of it?”

“...a good fight?” Goku said hopefully.

“Not all of us find that to be the best thing in life, Goku.”

“...how about some tasty food?”

“I’m not Beerus, Whis, or a saiyan. Food is a means to live. Plus, I’m vegan.” Being a park ranger tended to do that. It certainly convinced 17 to respect wildlife more. It helped that food for androids was nice-to-have, not a must-have.

Puppy dog eyes intensified. Vegeta was right at the Tournament, those eyes had no business being on a warrior on par with the Gods. “Maybe you could try just one time?” Goku asked hopefully. “If you hate it you never have to do it again.”

17 considered. “I’m surprised Vegeta is fine with this.” He was pretty sure that the Vegeta from the RR record files would have jealously guarded any and every battle technique he had.

“Oh, he mentioned it first,” Goku said cheerfully. “It was Vegeta’s idea, kinda.”

Huh. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah,” Goku nodded. “He liked your force field shield thing, said it would be useful in future fights.” 

Hmm.17 supposed he could come along just to see the fireworks explode, as they tended to among these two…

***

Surprisingly, Vegeta had been more amicable then 17 had expected, based on what he knew of the Saiyan from the RR files. 

It was slightly disappointing that nothing exploded, but 17 had had worse disappointments.

It was interesting to watch the two Saiyans interact and spar, observing firsthand the difference in their styles. Both Goku and Vegeta had the hyper-focused look of a predator about to catch prey. 

Goku's fighting style was somewhat flighty, characterised by quick bursts of energy, deceptively light but hurt like hell if the hits landed. A “let's try this and let’s see what happens” approach, less thought and more action. Goku wasn’t afraid to try unconventional things to throw his opponent off guard. It looked effortless, but had all the grace and force of a seasoned warrior behind it.

In contrast, Vegeta’s hits were more calculated and ruthless, but also more reckless. 17 had been in enough scuffles as the delinquents he and 18 were to be able to tell when the way someone fought was because they were used to fighting for their lives. Where Goku made it look fun, effortless, Vegeta struck to kill.

Point was, 17 was beginning to realise that Goku’s training together idea was actually pretty useful for all of them, a four-way exchange of skill. 

Right then, Vegeta was taking them through a fighting form he’d picked up from some fallen race in the past. “Right foot forward, Kakarot.” 

Goku fixed his stance, but his eyebrows scrunched in a little frown. “This... feels ...weird. I don’t feel... balanced.”

Vegeta studied him for a moment, then a look of realisation flashing across his face. He stepped in, using his foot to widen Goku’s stance, lightly manhandling Goku’s shoulders to spread out wider. “You’re taller than me, so your centre of gravity is off,” he told the other Saiyan, seemingly oblivious to how Goku’s face had reddened a little.

17 watched with great interest. 

That was the thing. Enough time spent around the Saiyans led 17 to realize something: between Goku and Vegeta, there was no personal space, no polite distance. It was like watching twins, close siblings, old married couples. 

Goku often initiated it. Vegeta grumbled about it, but still allowed it.

Idly, 17 wondered if they’d realize it for themselves.

***

**(Re)verse**

The Tournament of Power was possibly the oddest experience of Android 17’s life, for exactly two reasons.

One, 17 met the man he had once been (re)created and dehumanised to kill for the first time ever :  _ Son Goku.  _ And honestly, the experience was underwhelming.

_ Large obsidian eyes framed by a spiky mess of bangs blinked at 17 in a friendly way. “So you’re 17! Wow, You know my voice?" _

_17 stared._ ** _This_** _was the man Gero had been so desperate to kill? "You could say that."_

_ "Well, I've never met you before, so I didn't know it was you,” Goku answered cheerfully. _

_ "I saw you while I was inside Cell. And I heard your voice too."  _

_ “Oh.” Goku’s look of comprehension was like sunlight breaking through. 17 abruptly understood why this man seemed to draw all his enemies around himself. _

Two, they actually won, and 17 was the last one standing.

“Please stop that,” 17 finally requested, after the umpteenth expression of gratitude. “It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t save the universe. It could have been anyone else- I only won because  **_I_ ** happened to be the last one standing.”17 shrugged. “It’s not a reflection of my ability, or strength, or potential.” 

There was a beat of silence.

“Well, 17, you’ve got more humility than the lot of us put together,” Bulma said brightly. “Myself included.”

“Even if that’s true, you’re the only one who wished every other universe back,” 18 pointed out. “Not everyone would have done that.”

17 shrugged. She had a point, but - “I don’t need that kind of validation.” 

“Mm. You should give the boys a lesson.”

Unlike the Saiyans who were always chasing after the next level, 17 was pretty comfortable where he was. He’d found his worth not in gunpowder and genocide, but in the warmth of family, and the interaction of wildlife. He didn’t need much more than that.

“Honestly, 17. Take some credit.”

“You can’t eat credit,” 17 pointed out mildly. 

“You could use it to eat. And get a lot of things.”

“Just give me the boat and leave me alone.”

18 raised an eyebrow. "No boat until after you've had your checkup."

***

And that was how 17 found himself in Bulma's lab later, feeling vaguely threatened by the slightly manic gleam in her eyes as she bustled about him.

“Do you prefer being called 17 or Lapis?” Bulma asked 17, as she took readings and studied his vital signs. 

“The first.” 

Bulma made a soft noise of surprise. “I would have thought it would have been the second. Why?”

“It’s who I am now.” 17 shrugged. Lapis was a different name for a different life. 

“Fair enough. The term android is a misnomer, though,” Bulma said, her voice beginning to go into lecture mode. “You’re more modified artificial humans than you are androids.”

“I see,” 17 said, because he didn’t.

Bulma either caught on to his incomprehension or didn’t hear him, because she continued explaining. “What that means is- you’re human based, just that every part of you has been bio-enhanced. As in, modified on a cellular level to be superhuman.”

“Excellent,” 17 deadpanned.

“ _ W-owwww,”  _ Bulma dragged the words out, “You’re as bad as Vegeta sometimes.”

17 allowed his lips to turn upward. “I doubt that, but it’s not something I want to confirm."

“You know this means you’ll age much slower than normal humans? Natural anti-ageing, that could be engineered to market to the whole world. Kami, I would kill for some of those cells.”

17 felt cold. “Not natural.” But then, he was never warm. “And you could.”

A beat of silence. Bulma looked contrite. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive-” 

“It’s fine.” 17 waved it off. 

Because it was. Somehow, his sharp edges had been smoothed out over the years. There had been no big trigger, no catharsis- it was just time doing its work.

Bulma resumed trying to explain, because that was what humans did- they didn’t see the value of silence. “I was getting excited at the possibilities - your rate of cellular decay is so much slower than a human’s-”

“Yes, which means I’m to outlive my family and have them die way before I even start to age.”

Bulma froze. 17 met her gaze evenly.

“I’m sorry.” Bulma’s voice was quiet. “I know how hard it can be to be the one left behind.” 

17 wondered what or who she was thinking of. This was the woman whose life experience rivalled Dr Gero, after all.

“You know…” Bulma said slowly. 17 looked at her. “Saiyans also age much slower than normal humans.”

“...and?” 17 modulated his tone to make it sound like a question. Gero’s cybernetic ‘enhancements’ had spared no love for his and 18’s vocal chords, which resulted in their voices being constantly flat like a robot’s. Tone modulation was a constant, exhausting effort.

“What I’m saying is, even if they’re both fairly useless at things outside of battle training, it might be a good idea for you and 18 to spend some time with the boys. So you guys can… keep each other company in the future, when we’re all gone.”

Well, that was morbid. 17 said it aloud. Bulma cackled, pointing a spanner at him. “Oh, 17, you haven’t seen morbid until you’ve hung around us a little more.”

Well,  _ that _ was a little ominous.

17 could understand a little better now why 18 got along well with the woman.

***

**(Re)create**

17 and 18 didn’t keep in contact after the battle with Cell. 18 left one day to thank that little man that had wished their hearts back together (sans bomb), and never came back. 17 didn’t miss her; he was an android, he didn’t have emotions like that anymore. 

Even when 18 gave birth to Marron, 17 never dropped in, never came to see her - not to her knowledge anyway.

Because they were nothing more than strangers who shared a history and the same birthdate. 

One night, 17 slipped into Kame House at a time he knew it to be empty. Quietly, he looked at the evidence of this life his sister had somehow managed to gather from the shards of theirs.

A photo on the wall caught 17’s eyes, and he moved to look at it more closely.

This picture was a recent one, 17 could tell from 18’s haircut. She looked happier than he’d seen her through most of their years. Her arms were wrapped around Krillin, baby Marron a little bundle between them.

It felt like another lifetime away, but 17 remembered in a psychology lesson in school, right before the world blew to hell. The teacher had rambled on about how telling personal space could be, how you could tell relationships between people by how closely they stood in relation to each other. 

It struck 17 now, as he looked at these photos. 17 and 18 had no surviving photos of them together, but even if they had. Despite being fraternal twins, they had always stood at a distance from each other. 

In this picture, there was none of that. There was no personal space, no polite distance. 18’s ice blue eyes were glowing, not with data but with happiness. He hadn’t known her eyes could look like that.

17 felt something swell up within him, and he named it disgust, because there was no way it could be envy, right? 17 didn’t  _ need  _ people, didn’t want a family like his sister apparently did.

Several years later, watching his children play with the children of the men he was created to kill, 17 realized that photo might have been a turning point.

***

As 17 quickly learnt, once you got tangled with the Dragon Team, there was no way you were getting out. Especially once word got out about the free babysitting. 

***

**(Re)try**

“17, what do the words on your shirt mean?” Goten asked. 

17 looked at the MIR emblazoned across his shirt. Looked back at Goten’s expectant little face. “Monster Island Ranger. Because this is Monster Island, and I’m a ranger here.”

“Oh.” Trunks looked disappointed. “I thought it was because you were Ruzian, and MIR is the Ruzian word for world peace or something.”

Well, Trunks was smart, even if he was off the mark. 17 had to give him credit for that. He continued looking disappointed, so 17 gave in, reached over and ruffled his hair. “Good guess, but I’m not nearly that deep, kid.” 

“Hey Trunks! Look over heerrrrreeeee!”

Trunks looked up, and was rewarded by a snowball slamming directly into his face.

“Goten, you sneak, that’s not fair!”

Goten cackled at him, cheeky like his father. 17 sometimes couldn’t believe these were the sons of the men he had been programmed to kill. The world would have had to do without these little balls of menaces. “Uncle Vegeta says you should always be on guard- It’s not my fault if you’re not, Trunks!”

“You won’t catch me a second time!” Trunks’ hair lit up in gold, ire burning in teal eyes. 17 thought at that moment he looked very much like a son of Vegeta. “This means WAR!”

“Oooooh, war. Fun,” Marron chirped, already rolling a snowball of her own. Marron was her mother’s child and should not be underestimated. 

17 looked at the two mini-Saiyan hellions and just  _ knew  _ that chaos was about to descend on Monster Island. “If you scare any of the wildlife, I will kill you.”

“Except for Marron,” 18 said from somewhere above him. “Or I will kill you.”

17 looked up. “Oh. I thought you’d left after you dropped her off.” 

She shrugged. Out of the corner of his eye, 17 watched the kids wander off into the snow. “Well, I also wanted to know about the shirt, and it was nice to see how you interact with the children.” 

17 narrowed his eyes at her. She stared back. “This isn’t a daycare,” he reminded her. “This is a wildlife preserve with dangerous animals.”

18 made a show of looking around. “Dangerous. Right.” 

“Okay, maybe this is more your speed,” 17 said. 18 talks in money. “The ecological value of this place in aboveground biomass alone is worth more than your house.”

18 rolled her eyes. “Like you’d charge your own sister when the Briefs exist. Empty threat, 17.” 

Despite himself, 17 felt the corners of his mouth twitch up. To be able to tease 18 like this, it was nice. Like something real siblings did. 

It was… nice.

17 was in the middle of severely judging his brain’s own apparently limited ability as a thesaurus when the swish of a cape announced Piccolo landing nearby. “One more kid for the hoard,” Piccolo announced. 

“Oh, no,” 17 said, turning around and glancing in dismay at the human-looking baby Piccolo was holding in his arms. “What is that? Is that an actual infant? I didn’t know you even had kids.” 

“This is Pan, and she’s Gohan’s,” Piccolo said. “I was going to watch her today, but something came up, and I knew you had the rest of them.” 

“This is not a daycare,” 17 repeated, backing up and refusing to take the baby out of Piccolo’s hands. “Can she even walk?” 

“No, but she can fly,” Piccolo said. Since 17 wasn’t going to hold her, Piccolo just let go of the baby, and sure enough she took one look in the direction of the other brats and floated away. “She’ll be fine here.” 

“I have three children,” 17 said. “My own children. That’s it.” 

“Well, now you have four more,” 18 said. She had the audacity to smirk. “And you’ve got a decent chance of taking Piccolo’s favorite babysitter title.” 

“Hey,” Piccolo objected. “That’s not a thing.” 

17 sighed loudly, hating that he knew this. “It is a thing, and I’m told he’s already lost it.” 

_ “Hey!”  _ Piccolo repeated, more offended. 

“Don’t blame me.” 17 shook his head. “I never asked for any of this.” 

Piccolo shrugged. “Well, I didn’t either.” A wry smirk, that spoke of melancholy. “They have a way of worming into your heart."

17 hummed in acknowledgement, mildly wondering who Piccolo was thinking of. He wasn’t sure about a heart, but he supposed the nature of such things is that they came uninvited, but they linger long after the physical sensations have left. 

Dr Gero’s files hadn’t recorded Piccolo as particularly chatty, so 17 was surprised when the Namekian dropped a new line. 18 looked intrigued too. “You know, you’re lucky to have the chance to get extra time with them while they’re all little. Humans grow up so fast.” 

“Didn’t you?” 17 asked. The Red Ribbon files had a lot on this Piccolo and King Piccolo Sr. both.

Piccolo shrugged. “Physically, yes,” he said. “But Namekians live a long time, and the humans are - shorter, in comparison.” 

17 glanced over at 18. She was glaring. “Didn’t you say you had somewhere to get to?” she asked. 

“Yes, I did,” he said. “Thank you,” he said to 17, and then took off again.

***

**(Re)d Ribbon**

When 17 woke up the first time, circuits running through his body in place of veins, he was programmed with a singular objective.  _ “Kill Son Goku.” _

That was 17’s main purpose, the one line emblazoned across his mind.

However, despite being literally designed to meet and  _ kill Son Goku  _ , 17 had met Vegeta first.

“And just  _ where  _ do you tin cans think you’re going?”

Android 17 turned his head. That haughty drawl matched the condescending smirk of the man -no, the Saiyan- who stood before them.  _ Prince Vegeta  _ , 17’s radar identified- was smaller than the Red Ribbon records had led him to assume. Yet he was well built, with the way of carrying himself that hinted of a lifetime of fighting.

But 17 had seen this kind of bluster in too many street fights as a teen. These types of people always had too much big talk, too much to prove. They all  **always** lost. Beside him, 18 looked unimpressed. 

“You look different from before,” 17 mused. The spikes in the shape of fire crowning Vegeta’s head were now lit in a golden glow, rather than the charcoal it had been previously.

Vegeta’s smirk widened, eyes glinting. 17 immediately wrote him off for dead. “The difference goes beyond my looks, I assure you.” 

“We’ve no business with you,” 17 stated. “We’re only looking for Son Goku.”

Cool arrogance morphed to rage so quickly it was almost like a trigger going off. 17 blinked. “ _ He  _ is no longer your concern,” the Saiyan spat out. “  _ This  _ is where you tin cans die, by my hands.”

Arrogant, prideful fool. Just like the RR files said. “Pride is the downfall of the weak,” 17 drawled, hoping it would further provoke this so-called Prince of a dead race. 

True enough, the burning eyes grew more incensed. “ENOUGH! Which of you will face me first?!”

Lazuli- no, Android 18, was her designated name now, no longer the baby sister 17 remembered- stepped forward. And so began their story.

***

After the Cell Games was over, 17 woke up with a lightness in his chest that had nothing to do with catharsis and **_everything_** to do with the bomb in his body magically removed. 

It should have been freeing, should have been relieving. But all 17 felt was… empty.

He didn’t know what to think. Didn't know what to do, as the man called  _ Son Goku  _ was now apparently dead, and so his purpose was no more.

_ "The bomb inside of me is gone. What happened, 18?" _

_ 18’s eyes were an icy mirror reflecting 17’s confusion. "The little old guy asked Shenron to remove the bombs in our body." _

_ "...little old guy?" _

_ "Think his name is Krillin or something." _

_ "Why? What does he have to gain from that?" _

_ "I don't know.” 18 shrugged, weariness in the line of her shoulders. “I don’t care. Son Goku's dead, so we don't have any purpose right now, right? I'm going to go live my life freely." _

_ She turned away. They were twins in every way - gene, circuitry, past -- but in reality, they were little more than strangers.  _

_ "See ya." A lie, broken by design. _

_ 17 watched her go. Wondered if the strange ache in his chest had anything to do with the empty space the bomb once occupied.  _

_ Not too far away, a flame haired (former) warrior prince hovered over ravaged land, aching with a similar emptiness he would forever deny.  _

_ A quiet vow to the heavens: “I will never fight again.” _

_ Another lie, broken by design. _

_ *** _

**(Re)frain**

“How hard can a shield be to make?”

For this training session, 17 had chosen to try to teach Goku, Vegeta and 18 to adapt a version of his Android Force Field barrier. Goku looked more invested than 17 had ever seen, while Vegeta’s contemplative expression meant his face lost some of its arrogant edge.

“Both of you rely entirely too much on big bursts of power,” 17 told them.

“Saiyan bodies are very durable and can withstand massive amounts of damage. We hit harder than we take,” Vegeta replied, but his tone wasn’t haughty or confrontational. In fact, he sounded almost… inviting further discourse.

“Cybernetic bodies are made to be durable too, probably as much as Saiyans,” 17 reminded him. “We just prefer having our skin intact.” 

"Not everyone’s masochistic enough to take all the hits just because, like you two do,” 18 added.

“It’s not that,” Goku protested. “It just makes us stronger, it’s good for us.”

17 raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like masochism to me.” He didn’t peg Goku as someone who subscribed to the whole ‘what doesn’t kill you make you stronger’ spiel, but then he was still getting to know these strangers.

“What Kakarot is so un-eloquently trying to say,” Vegeta said, “is that Saiyans have the Zenkai ability. In the moment of near death, our bodies surge with power as a last ditch attempt to keep the body alive and protect vital systems. If we survive Zenkai greatly increases our power. With that line of logic, being in a near death state can only benefit us.”

17 nodded. This was not in Dr Gero’s files, but it explained some strange things he’d observed about both Saiyans during their training session. Particularly Vegeta who seemed eager enough to jump on a blade rather than avoid it. 

“That… explains a hell of a lot,” 18 mused. “ Why you two always are extremely dumb and reckless in battle, at least.” 

“Hey,” Goku protested mildly. “Sometimes I’m not reckless. Blame Vegeta.”

“That is not the single most hypocritical thing I’ve heard you say, Kakarot, but it’s close.”

17 raised his voice before they started bickering. “Well, it might actually pay for you both to learn to manage that impulse. We have no idea who we’re facing up against next, the pattern suggests it’s going to be tougher and tougher opponents with even more diverse abilities.”

Goku scratched the back of his head. “Of course they’d be tougher, else what’s the point? They wouldn't be enemies then.” Vegeta didn’t say anything, but the look on his face was one of agreement.

Saiyans were weird. 

“...we can both construct basic shields, but I agree that it might actually pay to learn your force field,” Vegeta murmured thoughtfully. 17’s eyes locked with Vegeta. How surreal this felt, they were both actually paying attention to him. The Tournament of Power was only 48 minutes of battle but it required some strategic retreats. It wasn’t about power, it was about endurance.If something like that happened again, the basic Force Shield could be very useful for recovery times.”

Turned out, it was fairly more complex than both Saiyans had been expecting, not least because they didn’t have the same ki marker pathways as 17 and 18 did. 

“It feels warm,” Goku said thoughtfully, “like a giant blanket. Like a soft electric hug.”

“It shouldn’t be this fucking hard,” Vegeta grumbled. “It’s just a shield.”

Goku opened his mouth. Before he could get a word out, Vegeta said, very loudly: “ **No,** Kakarot.”

Goku’s brow furrowed. “No what? I haven’t even said anything yet!”

“I don’t even need to hear it - you have that expression on your face that means whatever you’re going to say next will make me want to throttle you.”

Goku puffed his cheeks out. “Well simple, just  _ don’t  _ throttle me then-"

“Not letting you speak,” Vegeta said unrepentantly, though his lips twitched, “is the more efficient solution -”

“You’re just being a meanie, Vegeta-”

17 let out a long-suffering sigh. Privately he thought that the two saiyans were worse than their sons sometimes. At least Trunks and Goten had the excuse of literally being children. 

He should probably step in before things got out of hand, though the temptation to let them at it until they burnt eachother out was becoming stronger by the second.

17 didn’t care much for the actual training itself initially, but it was hard not to get swept along with both Saiyans’ friendly rivalry. Plus, their presence on the island meant extra hands to protect the wildlife (and extra babysitters), as often happened in the sparring.

Both androids could now go toe-to-toe with Goku in SS3 form. That particular day they trained until the sun came low, the sunset setting 18’s blonde hair ablaze with the shades of fire. 17 turned his head to gaze at the sky, appreciating the way the colours blended like no painting could ever hope to replicate. 

A light chuckle Goku floated beside him, both of them looking out. “I’ve always loved sunsets,” Goku remarked. “I can see why you chose to live on this island, 17. The view’s really something.”

17 acknowledged this with a nod, and they lapsed into comfortable silence. A little ways further below, 18 and Vegeta were both still flowing through some advanced evade-attack combo that the four of them had come up with, utilising a mix of the two saiyan’s favoured moves and 17’s shield block. It would be a nasty surprise to whoever chanced upon the four next time.

As 17 watched, Vegeta caught 18 off guard with a complicated flip move, twisting graceful in midair. It left 18’s right wide open.

In a rare show of restraint, Vegeta didn’t follow up with the jab 17 would have expected him to 18 took advantage of this by countering with a sweeping motion that left him wide open. She lightly tapped his left arm- an indication that in a real battle, she would have smashed it to pieces. 

Vegeta said something - even 17’s enhanced hearing couldn’t catch it in the wind- that was clearly a taunt, but his smirk was amiable. 18 just shook her head at him, but she was smiling too.

“That was a good move,” Goku mused. 

“That was,” 17 agreed. 

Blond hair had faded to black. Vegeta was replaying the earlier scene, demonstrating what would have happened in a real battle. 18’s face was as cool as ever, but 17 knew her well enough to know when she was giving someone her full attention. 

He was mildly impressed. Vegeta and 18 had fairly similar personalities, which meant they got along fairly well past the initial hostility. That twinged a bit, because it was still a constant effort on 17’s part to rebuild his relationship with 18. 

But then, it wasn’t so much a lack of compatibility but a lack of desire that had been the problem. Now they were mutually trying.

“Vegeta’s come really far,” Goku said out of nowhere, his voice full of warmth.

“I noticed, yes.” The same could probably be said of all them, to be fair. 

17 glanced at Goku and did a double take. If there was ever a definition of heart eyes, as 18 called it, it was right here beside him.

“You two are surprisingly close. I’d had the impression you hated each other, before this.” Or more accurately, one side had hated enough for two. 

Goku waved one hand, his gaze still impossibly warm on the two figures in the far distance. “Nah, I never hated Vegeta. We had some rough points, but I’d like to think we worked it out. Most of it, anyway.”

It wasn’t in 17’s place to mention how much further he thought they could work it out, so he stayed silent.

It was all there: the way Goku happily allowed anyone to grab him by the shoulder to Instant transmission, but exclusively asked Vegeta to hold his hand. The way Vegeta’s reaction was always flustered, but not as violent as 17 could expect. The way they looked at each other when the other wasn’t looking. 17 wasn’t one for romance, but he wasn’t blind.

***

**(Re)learn**

Vegeta scowled at the Cell Jr approaching them. “I don’t understand how you can allow yourself to live with these  _ creatures  _ . Eugh.”

17’s gaze sharpened. “His **_name_** is CJ1, not _creature_. They understand you, you know.”

Vegeta’s glare intensified. “I don’t care what they’re called, they’re an abomination.”

“They’re just kids.” 

“They were your enemy.” 

“They were _ from  _ my enemy,” 17 corrected. “Also, that’s big talk for someone hanging around with theirs,” he couldn’t resist adding, gesturing to where Goku was. 

“It’s not the same,” Vegeta defended. CJ2 chose that moment to come up super close to peer with curious eyes at Vegeta, who glared back. 

17’s jaw tightened a little. He wanted to argue, but he’d learnt by watching Goku that Vegeta reacted better through persuasion than coercion.

“CJs are blue,” 17 pointed out, wondering if the visual differences might help. “Cell was green.”

Vegeta gave him a look that told 17 why everyone had been so terrified of him once. “I see being a cybernetic human hasn’t eroded you of the ability to state the obvious.”

Well, that was rich coming from Vegeta, who was supposedly a genius among his kind but was completely blind to the way Goku looked at him, so. 17 just shrugged.

He pointed out another difference. “They don’t have the stingers Cell does, so they can’t hurt you.”

“ **_Please._** They can’t hurt me even with the stingers,” Vegeta scoffed. 

“So they’re harmless, yes?”

“Harmless doesn’t mean innocent.”

“Innocence is overrated,” 17 countered, and smiled when Vegeta acknowledged the point with a nod. “Those who look the most innocent tend to be the most wicked. Look at Marron.”

Vegeta snorted. “Look at  _ Kakarot  _ .”

They both looked. Goku was currently making silly faces at CJ5 , while Goten tried to sneak up behind him. His hair was lit in super saiyan gold, so the contrast of Super Saiyan brilliance against his increasingly comical expressions was rather jarring to watch.

“He is a curious one indeed,” 17 allowed.

“Understatement of the century.”

Goku was now play-fighting both Goten and CJ5 off. “I thought he did it on purpose,” 17 mused. Vegeta raised one eyebrow. “The whole human tactic of ‘keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer,’ that kind of thing.”

Vegeta actually chuckled out loud at that one. 17 mildly wondered if he knew how much fondness had slipped in that laugh. “And now?”

“And now I know better. Goku doesn’t really think of things like that, it seems.”

“Hn.” Vegeta took a sip of his own drink in turn. “Kakarot can be manipulative in his own way, but his intentions are hardly, if ever, malicious.”

17 glanced at Vegeta, just in time to catch something in his eyes. That same look Eighteen had when she looked at Krillin.

_ Aha.  _ So this thing 18 called heart-eyes was indeed two-way, not that 17 had ever doubted it. But hanging around animals taught 17 to read more from motion rather than speech.

Vegeta turned his head and caught 17’s calculating expression, immediately turning on the defensive. “What?” 

17 raised an eyebrow. Where 18 might have said something to roast the prince, 17 chose to just go back to his beautiful cup of coffee. Silence was more powerful than words, sometimes. 

Vegeta looked utterly wrong-footed. 

Oooh, what a power trip. 17 could get used to this.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter sneak peek:  
> “Senzu, now.” Goku’s voice was sharp in a way 17 rarely heard it. The moment the bean was in his hands, Goku put it to his mouth and crushed the bean with his teeth. He chewed on it almost feverishly.
> 
> Then every piece of information in 17’s brain came to a halt as he watched Goku covering Vegeta’s lips with his own.
> 
> ***  
> Thank you very much for your time reading- We really had fun writing this, imagining and playing around with their dynamic. We'd love to hear your thoughts. Thank you for passing by, and happy kakavege week! ^^
> 
> Shoutout to Agent Scribs who asked to see 17 interacting with the Cell Juniors and Baby Buu who loves the androids as much as we do :3


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